My Alacrity Deficiency- A Poem About Dyspraxia

Hi everyone, it's been a while since I've uploaded a poem on this blog so here it is. This poem was also published on Yahoo answers and received some good constructive criticism and as a result there has been some minor changes made. I thought I should try and write about the condition which I have, (mildly compared to others,) as a quasi-biography of an issue. Although much of what is expressed in the poem is experienced by those with Dyspraxia, I myself am not as severe as depicted in this work, just so you know. In any case I hope you enjoy the work and just a quick explanation of the title: It refers to how disorders such as Dyspraxia affect one's ability to go through life unhindered or at the same speed as peers, especially when in school and the effects it can have on morale etc. Think clumsiness and chaos when reading the poem.

MY ALACRITY DEFICIENCY

Gliding along a sun-swept pave;

Grass at the heels in a glowing serenade.

The birds sing in view to the blue ceiling above.

Gliding through nothing until I strike a barricade.

Spontaneous in nature and invisible in practice;

My speed is hindered as my vision sways.

A crunch echoes inside of my head, my legs broken as I meander.

An island replaces the glade, leaving me stranded.

The waves crash against rocks, blunt and sharp.

They form the visual against the tuneless harp.

I’ve collapsed into the sand, assaulted by the light from the sunset.

It’s distant and far so you’ll never forget.

I’m most afraid of what you’d say: I’d write it down, but you wouldn’t understand.

No lexicon wider or deeper than the chasm,

Into which I fall,

Nor a spoken atonement for some would say it all.

The sunlight flashes violently as I think back.

“How are you? Tell me how you feel. Write it down for me.”

I struggle to read it back.

Yet imbalanced perfection can produce the best results.

A specialised syndrome when the hemispheres slip;

The ability is still there, in surreal coordinates.

Yes. Strange it is, but not inordinate.

But for some tidings seem rather unfortunate.

When I glide in and out of time onto which, I still retain my grip,

I find a smile form on my lips, awkward as it may look.

Back on my feet, I walk further down my carefree path.

I may sway from side to side still, my hands are a disaster, my voice still cold but I never despair.

I walk with a bounce and patience of Zen,

Knowing if I fall I can get back up again.

I hope you enjoyed the work and if you wish to analyse the poem or learn more about the condition, please visit the page linked below. See if you can match the metaphors with the symptoms.

http://www.dyspraxiafoundation.org.uk/services/ad_symptoms.php